


Between Heaven and Hell

by Julianna4121



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Case Fic, Feels, Human Castiel in the Bunker, Hurt Castiel, Love, M/M, Reluctant Dean, Romance, Season/Series 09, Sex Pollen, Team Free Will, Witch Curses, delayed gratification
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-26 14:29:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5008336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julianna4121/pseuds/Julianna4121
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is a fact; an unmovable part of his life who has been there from day one to have his back. He has done nothing but reinforce the ideals and illusions their father had quite literally beat into Dean.<br/>But Cas? Castiel came in, a little wayward angel, and wrecked Dean's very foundation. </p><p>Dean has some hard truths to swallow.</p><p>Updated weekly!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter was written years ago, since I wished the beginning of season nine had gone differently, and I've decided to keep it going! Hope you like It!

It’d been a month. 30 days. One day of denial, 29 of tearing his hair out in worry. Dean felt as if everything had stopped. He knew minutes, hours, days were passing but he couldn’t feel them. It wasn’t real. Not even good, ole reliable Sammy could reassure him.

Eventually a promise had to be made. Dean would not obsess or worry and in return Sam would actually focus on getting better.

He tried. He really did try. Cas' habit of flying off right when conversations got serious or god forbid emotional should have prepared him for his absence. Dean Winchester would not lose sleep over a damned ex-angel. He wouldn't stay up worrying about whether Cas got to eat that day or found a safe place to sleep. He definitely wouldn't scour the Internet for sightings or take long drives in the impala to ''think'' when one would point him to a nearby town.....  
Well, he tried.

It’s ridiculous and it's crazy but he couldn't stop thinking about it. What if Cas in all his newfound humanness, decided the Winchesters really weren't worth the trouble they cause? What if he thought Dean's baggage and give em hell attitude would poison his pureness? Castiel wasn't under heavens influence anymore. No, now he was 100% Cas, a fragile thirty something year old who's probably going through a huge existential crisis. He doesn't need two dropouts to help him get through it. Especially since their solution would most likely be to throw alcohol at it. It's stupid and unlike Cas but....what if he's right?

Dean sat quietly in the library of the bunker, like always. The desk lamp shone across his features and if Sam didn’t know better he would have thought Dean ten years older by the lines etched into his face.

Sometimes he watched Sam read, while other times he would ignore his brothers attempts at a conversation and stare off in a corner before grumbling something incoherently and making his way to his room for the rest of the night. Tonight, Sam decided, dean wouldn’t be doing either.

Sam really was fed up with the constant silence following his big brother. Of course he knew what the problem was so he couldn’t plead ignorance….but given the delicate nature of the topic he didn’t exactly know how to bring it up. Tired of all the tiptoeing Sam figured he might as well just jump right in. His eyes shifted uncomfortably while he took a deep breath through his mouth, “Look dean….you have to talk about it, man. I’ve been in your shoes and I’m here, uh, if you need me.”

His eyes came to rest on the blank expression plastered to his brother’s face, “You can glare at me all you like, I’m not intimidated.”

"I don’t need you to be intimidated. I need you to mind your own freaking business, okay?" Dean hissed in reply. Frankly his behavior was out of character but Sam didn’t let that discourage him. He turned on his best puppy eyes and remained silent.

Dean continued after a beat, “I’m fine. Really.” He replied much softer now. The pain was evident in his voice.

"You miss him."

"I-I…" There were no words to describe the feeling. Sam wouldn’t believe him if he told him the truth anyways. "Yeah. Yeah Sammy, I really do."

It was a gruff answer but honestly this is the farthest Sam had ever gotten. He didn’t know what to do next. What’s worse is he couldn’t get a thought that had been nagging him for the last couple days out of his head….  
"Dean, you might want to consider the possibility that he might not come back…ever."

∞⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻>>

It’d been a few hours since the exchange. Dean had hardly come out of his room let alone spoken to his brother. Sam typed away on his laptop hoping to pass some time so he wouldn’t have to think of dean’s horrified expression. It was well past midnight when he let out a strained sigh and decided to get some sleep.

Then there was a knock on the door.

First shy but then gradually becoming more insistent.

The knocks stopped as quickly as they appeared. It was almost eerie the way only Sam's footsteps could be heard throughout the bunker on his way to the front entrance. 

Ah he would never forget the look he got when he opened the door fully prepared with the demon blade in his hand. 

Sam was more relieved than surprised truthfully. Relieved that the source of all his brothers worry stood right in front of him on the bunker’s very own porch.   
"You do not understand the hell it’s been without you here, man."

∞⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻>>

It took a lot to lure Dean out of his cave but promises of a meal and beer helped. Though it didn’t take long for Dean to figure out there actually wasn’t any food. He realized when he walked into the kitchen and came face to face with the reason for all the guilt that’s been closely following him the last month.

If Dean was into all the gushiness, he would’ve described it like a typical chick flick scene. Even though Dean Winchester was the farthest thing from lovey-dovey…. it was like someone had snapped their fingers and suddenly everything was right in the world. Just like that, the clocks started ticking again. Dean’s heart once again beat. A weight lifted off his shoulders and his lungs filled with sweet air, slowly emptying the longer he stared.

But just to clarify…dean definitely was not into that crap at all.

"Dean."  
Dean. Dean. Dean. Endlessly bouncing around in his head. He could see the chapped lips move to let out the syllable but couldn’t make the connection. He was stuck with everything around him a blissful blur. Dean Winchester didn’t know what to do next.

But suddenly he was enveloped by a familiar pair of arms. And dean realized he didn’t need to know what to do anymore. He had never felt safer. Not with Sammy, or his father, or even in bed all those years ago when his mother would whisper angel stories in his ears at night.

He had never felt more at home.

"Cas, is that really you?" He could barely push the words out. Painfully simple, but what are you supposed to say to an ex heavenly creature who's been missing for, well, too damn long? Dean decided he could live with simple.

Dean was released from the hug but he grabbed bony wrists to keep the close proximity. His gaze was met by another of intense cobalt.

"Yes. It is me. I apologize for the delay." 

There was a moment of silence before Dean broke into tired laughter. Castiel who looked so small in his ratty trench coat, Castiel whose hair was pointing in random directions, was sorry for the delay. Dean had unintentional tears in his eyes. He clapped his hand on his friends shoulder and shook his head at the look of bewilderment on his face. Dean couldn't believe it, the guy had bags underneath his eyes and was as thin as a rail, and he was apologizing! Still chuckling, Dean started to tell him it really was okay but stopped short. 

Castiel who only looked like that because he had his grace stolen away.   
Castiel who probably spent weeks scavenging for food and shelter because he was torn from heaven.  
Cas, who wasn't an angel anymore.  
Dean’s hand slipped off the man’s shoulder and his smile faltered. 

Cas eyed dean warily. His facial changes were quick and he didn't quite know how to deal with the human emotions bubbling inside himself yet let alone Dean's. He looked to Sam for a cue, a hint, anything that would tell him what to do but he wasn't standing in the door way anymore. When Cas glanced back at dean the most apparent emotion was sadness. 

"Dean? Is everything okay?"

It wasn't, not to Dean. Cas seemed okay, Sam was okay...he should've been so fucking happy but as quick as it came it passed through him and was gone again. Still hollow like he'd felt the last month. 

Dean sucked it up as soon as he saw the concern on Cas' face. He smiled softly but this time it was different. Even Castiel noticed how it didn't reach his eyes.

"It's just so good to have you back, man. We have a lot to catch up on." Dean pulled Cas into the bunker library and paused, "Err do you want to get cleaned up first?"

"That would be optimal, thank you." Cas sighed very relieved but it was hard to tell from the awkward way he was holding his body. Sort of hunched over, like he was going to collapse at any moment. His eyes put up a brave facade though. 

They made their way down the hallway into the room Dean had claimed as his own. Cas leaned wearily on the door frame and raised one of his brows. Any embarrassment at the current state of his room was lost when Cas suddenly slipped to the floor. 

"Whoa Cas! Hey! You okay?" Dean pulled Cas up and immediately supported his weight.

"I'm okay, I'm okay. I'm just a little sore. I'm sorry." He replied in a raspy voice.

"Don't apologize for something that isn't your fault alright?" It was supposed to be light hearted, with a smile even, but it ended up sounding more serious than Dean had meant. The truth was, dean was already sick of hearing the word 'sorry' coming out of Cas' mouth. 

Dean steadied his grip around Cas' torso, awkwardly clearing his throat when he saw castiel's eyes weakly scanning around the jumbled room. 

"Well you wanted to get cleaned up so let me help you out with that." He walked with Cas across the room to the bathroom and carefully separated himself from Cas' barely stable body. "This is the shower, uh, there's some razors, scissors, whatever you need under the sink because you're not keeping that beard, *caveman*. Just leave your clothes in a pile and I'll scrounge up something for you to wear." 

Cas was hesitant, but very sincere. "Thank you Dean. For everything."

"It's nothing. Yell if you need anything else." Dean stared at Cas' thin dirty face a moment before continuing, "I owe you one, man. I'm glad you're back." 

He made his way back to the library with new energy in his step. Was he happy? He didn't know. But he did know he had a six pack in the fridge just begging to be cracked open. 

Only except there was a very tall annoying brother standing in the way.

"Hand me a cold one, will yah?" 

Sam gave him a steady look and showed no intention of moving. 

"What, am I talking to a wall? C'mon Sammy good things are happening! Let's drink to it!" Dean enthused to a still stoic Sam. 

"Tell me your head is in the right place."

"Scuse me?"

"I'm asking if it's possible that you might not be thinking straight." 

"Because of Cas coming back? Don’t be crazy....! I mean...its Cas! Guys done enough for us that I think we at least owe 'im a warm meal and bed." 

"What's so special about him dean? I don't understand how you can let him in here when he's part of the reason heaven is on total lock down. I'm just saying that he could be a little unhinged. Maybe we shouldn't be so quick to welcome him into the bunker." Sam said with a huff and minimal eye contact.

Dean couldn't believe sam. Not help Cas? In what world would he leave a good friend out in the cold, alone and hurt? He didn't understand how they weren't on the same page.  
"It's /Cas/. He might be missing some feathery parts but that doesn't lessen what he has done for us. Not in my book Sam." He said reaching around his brother to grab the case of beer out of the refrigerator. In a smooth practiced motion, dean had a bottle cap off and the glass to his lips. 

"I'm making the right choice. Don't worry about me Sammy." He quietly said after his first beer was empty and he was moving to open his next one. 

∞⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻>>

Dean was tipsy but not at all hindered. He went back to his now steamy room wondered what was taking Cas so damn long. Dean left a pile of his old clothes at the foot of the bed for when Cas got out. He figured they were probably close to the same size. Dean tried to ignore the fact that he liked the idea of Cas wearing his clothes. He was just being helpful is all. 

Dean had spent so much energy worrying about Cas that it wasn't going to be easy to shut off. Even now, with liquid courage, he still felt anxiety constricting his chest. The bathroom door was cracked and it would be so easy to take a quick peak inside. Cas could have fallen, Cas could have passed out, he reasoned. With a shrug of his shoulders he gently pushed the door open wider. He saw Cas palms against the wall with his back to dean, heaving like every breath was becoming harder and harder to take. He had these horrible jagged cuts surrounded by bruises across his shoulder blades. They looked like they were in the process of healing but would probably need some kind of treatment. Dean’s eyes trailed down his back, a little lower....nope. 

"I am not drunk enough for this." He muttered shaking his head and stumbling back out into his bedroom.

He wasn't gay. But sometimes he'd see a guy and couldn't help but think how hot they were. It usually took a few beers for him to even acknowledge the confusing attractions but he knew he wasn't gay. Dean Winchester loves women! He was just.....something.....and thinking about labels made him need more alcohol.

After chasing that six pack with a few too many glasses of whiskey, much to his brothers disapproval, he stumbled his way back to his room again. Cas was sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed in a ratty acdc shirt and dark plaid sleep pants. Did dean expect him to be naked? A little, I mean that's kinda how these things usually play out. Did dean want him to be naked? Again maybe, he didn't know. But he certainly was drunk enough now to entertain the idea.

Upon seeing dean stumble in Cas quickly stood up and took a few steps away from the bed. "I uh...thank you for the clothes. I know you don't have many...and I was in great need for a new set." 

"Is no problm. Though I gotta say mgonna miss that trench coat. Looked good on yah, Man."   
Cas thanked him again and gave him the all too familiar eye squint. So it was a little awkward. But they hadn't seen each other in over a month and so much shit had gone down that dean wasn't even surprised at the obvious detachment Cas was showing. And God, this human thing? Dean barely has a grip on his own freaking self so he could imagine how terrifying it would be for Cas.

Dean walked around to the left side of his bed. He always slept on the left and anyone could tell that because the other side had junk all over it. He sheepishly pulled yellowing books and crumbled papers off and stacked them on a nearby chair. Cas was still standing there like he didn't know what to do. Then it occurred to dean that he didn't know what to do either. 

"I don't wanna scare you man I know you've just been though a lot but I thought that maybe we could uh...go over it. Catch up?" Dean patted the bed in invitation and shifted to be half sitting himself. 

Cas slowly lowered onto the bed wincing, making dean remember what bad shape this poor guy was in. 

"What would you like to know?"

"Everything, Cas."

∞⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻∞


	2. Chapter 2

So the world hadn't ended after all. Cas was back, Sam was gradually getting better and life for Dean Winchester just couldn't get much more good than that. Sure, maybe they weren't hunting or really doing much of anything now that he thought about it, but Dean was happy. Completely content with his broken little family. For the most part at least...

"He refuses to come out again, Dean." Sam sighed while pouring himself a cup of green hippie tea, "I'm worried about him."

"Damn it." Dean, who had only come out to nab a cup of joe, paused his search for a mug. He met Sam's concerned gaze and knew that his brother wouldn't be letting it go until something was done. "Alright, alright. I'll go get him."

Personally Dean thought that they should give Cas some breathing room. But maybe Sam was right, it was pretty obvious after all that Cas had been avoiding them these last few days. It must be hard to go from badass angel to human so unceremoniously. More than hard, it must be downright earth shattering.

But Dean didn't do nurturing. He loved taking care of people who needed help but he wasn't exactly vocal about it. What could he even do for Cas anyways? He knew that if he was in the guy's shoes he probably wouldn't want any company, but sometimes it doesn't matter what you want. It matters what Cas needs and according to Sam, what he needs is a friend.

Before he left the kitchen, he got himself his coffee plus a cup of hippie tea for Cas. It was one of the only things that Cas would even consider putting in his mouth when he first got here. Something about it being less 'loud' than coffee, whatever that means.

They had given Cas a spare bedroom close to Dean's and near the library so either of them would be within hearing distance. It rarely opened. Even now when Dean knocks on the door there, not surprisingly, is no answer.

"Hey man...I brought you some tea. Thought it would be good if you came out and joined us, yeah?" He knows that no one is going to reply so he turns the knob and enters anyway. Inside, the room is plain with a simple pale green color scheme. It wouldn't even look lived in if it wasn't for the hunched form underneath the blankets.

"Buddy, you okay?" Dean asked creeping forward in the dark room. He set down their drinks and turned on a lamp so he could better assess the situation.

God, Cas looked bad. He looked like a withered version of himself, with scruff and deep bags under his eyes. Cas didn't make any indication that he had heard or seen Dean enter but he was awake.

"You can't ignore me forever, man. Sam is worried about you...I mean we both are, yah know? When's the last time you ate something?" Dean spotted a half empty package of stale saltines on the right night table, "real food?"

Cas sighed quietly. Everything he did was quiet nowadays. "Thank you for the tea, Dean." He sat up slowly and adjusted himself to be leaning against the headboard but made no move towards the tea or make any reference to Dean's question.

Even sitting up he was still awkwardly hunched over, positioned so only his lower back made any connection with the headboard. Dean had never noticed how little space Cas actually took up. He wondered if Cas had always been that small or if the lack of Angel mojo had something to do with it.

"Stop it." Cas interrupted Dean's thoughts.

"Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like I'm going to fall apart at any moment. Please." Cas whispered while staring down at his hands.

Dean sighed and sat on the edge of the bed next to him. "I hate to be the one to break it to yah man, but this?" he gestured around the room and to Castiel's crumpled form, "This is you falling apart. Hell, this is you crashing and burning."

Cas winced. Dean realized his faux pas a little too late. Well, he never claimed to be gentle did he? Still he couldn't help but feel shitty for mentioning it.

"...and it's okay, man. It's okay to not be okay for a while. We don't expect you to bounce back right away."

"I used to be able to 'bounce back right away.' I could be on the other side of the world in the blink of an eye," Cas paused, sounding choked up, "Now I'm powerless. Useless."

Dean was at a loss for words. He put his hand on Castiel's shoulder, squeezing, intending to provide some comfort as soon as he came up with something to say but was surprised when Cas recoiled away from his touch. Cas half hid a groan of pain and hunched further down.

"Hey! What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Dean said with a little too much distress in his voice.

"I am fine. It seems my wounds from the fall have not gone away as I hoped, that is all."

Dean silently gestured towards Castiel's back and gave him the 'shut up and let me look at it' face that always worked on Sammy. Cas sighed and shifted to be facing away from Dean. He gripped his shirt at the neck and pulled it over his thin shoulders, slowly exposing the rigid scars covering his back.

Dean was shocked and had a slight feeling of Déjà vu at the angry lines tracing Cas' shoulder shoulder blades. He carefully touched his hand to Castiel's skin, feeling the warmth around the scars. "These might not be infected yet, but you're gonna have to take some antibiotics to make sure. And you gotta get these bandaged man or you're gonna have worse problems."

Cas kinda laughed under his breath, "I didn't know you had medical training, Dean."

"Well, knowledge of the trade, yah know? Hunters just pick this stuff up. And lemme tell you, it's a hell of a lot cheaper than med school." Dean grinned at the thought of himself in a doctor coat. Well he's been in one a couple times but the thought was still amusing to him. "I'm gonna get you some cream for those. Meet me in the bathroom, and leave your shirt off."

As Dean left the room he noticed the blush on Castiel's face. He's probably embarrassed to be so vulnerable in front of someone he used to beat up with a flick of his wrist. Dean could understand that, though he was secretly glad that Cas would no longer have the upper hand in their fights.

"Heya Sammy! Where's the first aid kit?" Dean asked nonchalantly as he poked his head into the library. Sam had his nose in a book, as expected, and didn't even bother to look up when he told Dean it was in the duffel in the hall closet.

Dean retrieved their hefty bag of medical supplies and returned to Castiel's bathroom. Cas had brought a small stool from his room and was sitting on it when Dean came in. But when he saw all the items Dean had brought his eyes widened and he became visibly uncomfortable.

"Don't need to be nervous Cas, I promise I won't hurt you. Turn around." Dean became serious as Cas swiveled around, baring his back once again. Some of his movements had reopened the wounds and trickles of blood came out of the inflamed skin.

Dean got to work. He mechanically cleaned the cuts, a few stitches here and there, not saying anything when Cas would let out sounds of pain. After a few minutes, Cas didn't make any more sounds. Dean couldn't help but feel a tiny sense of pride that Cas was getting better at dealing with pain. He never wanted to see Cas in pain, even more so than he did Sammy. He knew Sam could internalize it, a Winchester talent, but Cas was new at this.

"Good news and bad news. Take your pick?" Dean said while wiping his hands on a wash cloth.

Cas cleared his throat, "I would like to hear the good news first."

"Good news is that as long as you follow the Doctor's orders, you'll be back in commission in no time." Dean gripped castiel's shoulders and turned him around, "bad news is it's gonna hurt like a son of a bitch for a few days." He grinned and started packing his stuff up, leaving the bandages out.

"Thank you, Dean. I don't know what I would have done without-"

"It's no problem. You're one of us, we take care of our own."

Cas looked so outstandingly shocked and happy at those words that Dean felt his own face flush. He supposed it was some angel thing to crave a 'flock' but if that's what Cas needs, he was willing to be that for him.

"Okay stand up, I gotta get this on yah." Dean positioned Cas with his arms parallel to the tiled floor.

Dean stood behind Cas and started the process of wrapping the bandage around his torso.

He hadn't been this close to Cas....in well, a while. His lips were inches away from the back of Cas' neck. He could see the goosebumps rising from his breath brushing against it. He tried to think of something else, and that actually did help. It helped so much that Dean didn't realize when he was about to reach the end of the bandage. Cas did though, turning suddenly to find himself right up against Dean. His eyes widened and his lips parted in the slightest, most desirable way. Dean lapsed. He leaned in and kissed him. It only lasted a second, completely chaste, but there was no denying how unbelievably right it felt. Neither of them moved.

Dean was pretty sure neither of them were breathing either. Dean still had his hands on Cas' chest and when he noticed he immediately pulled his hands off and stepped away, scrambling for something to ease the tension. Now he was freaking out.

"Uh..we're...I mean you're...you should be good now for the next couple hours." Dean said quickly with a forced half smile. He smacked his hands together then rubbed them while letting out a deep breath. "Alrighty, so I'm gonna get you some food. I'll call yah out when it's finished."

Dean was so quick to rush out of the bathroom that he didn't catch Cas gently touching his own lips or the smile that spread across his face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy :)

/What is WRONG with me? What in the world would even possess me to do that?   
-You know what./

 

Dean looked around the kitchen sheepishly, as if his thoughts could be heard.

 

/Shut up./

 

He continued on with his task of early lunch. He had to admit, he was pretty killer at a good sandwich. Making food also happened to be his favorite distraction. Well, his favorite distraction that wasn't blonde and feisty. Still...he couldn't stop the flood of thoughts from spilling over.

 

Maybe Cas would just think it was a normal human gesture of friendliness?

 

It was a slip, Dean hadn't had one of those since high school. But this wasn't high school and he wasn't fooling around in the janitor's closet. For god's sake it's-

 

"Cas-ti-freakin'el..."

 

"What has he done now?" Suddenly Sam was casually strolling into the kitchen with a lore book and laptop in hand. Dean hadn't even realized he had spoken aloud and desperately racked his brain trying to figure out at what point his thoughts started being vocalized. "...and why do you look like a deer caught in headlights?"

"I....what? No I don't, shut up." Dean wasn't sure what Sam had heard and wasn't sure how to play it out yet. He made sure to keep his back to him though because his brother could always tell when he was embarrassed. "Want some lunch?"

Sam looked at Dean suspiciously, "No thanks, I already ate." There was silence between them and only the sound of Dean scraping a knife across bread could be heard. "So how is Cas?"

"He's....good," Dean cleared his throat and continued, "He always bounces back, doesn't he? Anyways, I convinced him to come out and eat so my work for the day is done." Dean smiled triumphantly over his shoulder to his brother.

"Small victories, I suppose." Sam said with a shrug and not an ounce of enthusiasm. He continued his research at the table, occasionally taking the time to jot down some notes.

"Are we coming back from hiatus or have yah picked up a hobby you haven't told me about yet?" Dean asked, gesturing with a pack of lunch meat to Sam's book.

"It may be nothing..."

"But you think it's something."

Sam flustered, "Yeah I think it's something." He turned his laptop around so Dean could see the screen, "I think we may have a witch two towns over."

Dean leaned forward to see multiple windows open of articles, all claiming something to do with mysterious death. "Alright, you have officially peaked my interest. Lay it on me."

"So get this," Sam immediately perked up, "There have been four deaths right? The sheriff issued a statement where he admitted all the cases were weirdly similar but said there wasn't enough evidence to establish a pattern. I think it's not just a pattern, I think it's a supernatural pattern."

"What happened to the stiffs?" Dean inquired, continuing to assemble the sandwiches.

Sam scanned his computer screen, "Each body was that of a person who had documented extramarital affairs. The deceased had signs of poison but tox reports came up negative for everything they tested. And the crazy part? The vics were found with claw marks over their hearts, from their own hands."

"You're right that does smell like our sort of thing, but why a witch? It could be a demon having his fun collecting debts."

"No sulfur. And because I found this book buried in the men of letters stuff. It has a passage that strikes a weird resemblance to our case. A spell for scorned lovers." Sam looked pleased with himself while he read aloud from the book, "And they shall burn for their betrayal but shiver from the ice in their heart. Their breath shall be taken away as they took another's away. They will know how it feels to have a heart ripped out from unrequited love."

Dean had finished making the sandwiches and set them on the table across from Sam. "That's rough. So they screwed around and now they're the target of some crazy witch? What's in it for the witch?

"I don't know Dean. Revenge maybe? Maybe the witch was scorned themselves and has a problem with adulterers or they were a hired by 'scorned lovers' to get even."

Dean nodded, taking a moment to absorb the information. If this turned out to be real, it would mean finally getting back to how things used to be. Dean had been feeling a little like a bored housewife these last few days and found himself very eager to take down this witch. Then it occurred to him. "What about Cas?"

"What about me?" Cas replied, appearing in the kitchen doorway. This was just the day of sneaking up on Dean apparently. Cas had changed into old jeans and a plain white shirt of Dean's, both of which hung off his slim frame and threatened to swallow him whole.

Dean froze. He had decided to pretend like he hadn't...touched his mouth...to his best friend's but he hadn't expected to feel so god damn nervous when Cas walked in. He just prayed that Cas wouldn't mention it in front of Sammy, and yes, he did see the irony in that. Sam noticed the awkward stare going on between the two and took hold of the situation.

"Oh good you're here, Cas. We will explain while you eat," Sam shot Dean a pointed look, "won't we Dean?"

"Uh yeah, yeah. Made you a sandwich and Sam thinks we might have a case." Dean said pointing Cas to his place at the table, with zero eye contact.

Cas sat down between Dean and Sam. He looked at his food with dismay but still picked it up and took a bite. He chewed mechanically and swallowed. "You think I shouldn't accompany you for this case."

Dean and Sam shared a look. Sam raised his eyebrows and averted his eyes, thoroughly conveying that he had no intention of engaging.

"It's not that we don't want you there, man. We do, I promise. But to be fair...this is the first time you've really gotten out of bed in days...are you up for a case?" Dean asked in his meant-to-be-gentle-but-comes-out-sounding-condescending voice. 

Cas took another bite, taking his time to chew and swallow once again. "I might as well be put to use."

Sam turned on his puppy eyes and basically attacked Cas with reassurances but Dean couldn't be bothered to pay attention. His amazing sandwich wasn't even doing the trick, damnit. All he could think about was the way Cas' mouth moved in reply to Sam. Then how his lips felt. Different from a woman's, yeah, but still...good.

What was going on with him? He wasn't even day drunk yet, so why the fuck were these things in his head?

Then Sam was waving his hand in front of Dean's face, "Dean? Hello? What do you think?"

"Huh? Uh, say it again, I didn't catch that last bit." He mumbled while finishing up his sandwich.

"I was saying I'll go get some supplies and get our suits dry-cleaned and then tomorrow we can get an early start out."

Dean thought for a moment. He couldn't stay idle for another night, not with how weird he's been acting. He really needed this case. Now. "Better yet? Let's get out tonight." Dean flashed his famous smile and collected his dishes from the table, "You get that stuff done Sammy and I'll pack us some bags."

Dean made his exit with Cas' eyes closely following him. Sam noticed how...lost Castiel looked when Dean went out of view. He wasn't jealous of their profound bond anymore. He could tell that they both meant a lot to each other, even if Dean was a bit oblivious to it most of the time. "He worries about you, that's why he gets like that. Don't take it personally." Sam said nonchalantly, keeping his eyes in his book, assuming that Cas wouldn't want him to make a big deal out of it.

Cas cleared his throat. "Sam, I need help. On a personal matter."

Sam almost laughed in disbelief, Cas? Personal life? "Okay let's hear it." He set his book down and paid his full attention.

"As you know, I am completely human now. There are so many things...feelings...that are new to me and I'm not quite sure how to handle them, especially when they are aimed towards a person. I find myself wanting things that I'm not sure I can have." Cas said quietly and unsure of himself.

"What like you have a crush on someone? Someone you met before you ended up here? Because let me tell you Cas, it's perfectly normal to feel those things and although we probably won't be able to find her, I'm sure we can find another girl-"

"Thank you, Sam. I understand now." Cas interrupted, giving a forced half-smile. He left a very confused Sam at the table alone as he hurried back to his room.

Sam didn't understand what he said wrong. He chalked it up to Cas feeling too embarrassed to stay for a whole lecture. It was kind of sweet really, Cas having a crush. Though he couldn't imagine a newly fallen Cas would have had time to make a love connection while trying to survive each day. He even more so couldn't believe that Cas would be into short flings, having been an angel and everything. He wondered....no....couldn't be. He laughed for even having the idea. Sam grabbed the impala keys and as soon as he made it out the front door, he didn't give Castiel's predicament another thought.


	4. Chapter 4

They didn’t have much luck at the sheriff’s office. It seems that these cases had generated a lot of interest when a previously obscure twitter account leaked an email chain where the sheriff was caught engaging with two of the victim’s widows. Because of this, he wasn’t taking any visitors unless they were from his own department. His burly secretary had made that perfectly clear.

  
As they were escorted out Dean squinted at the reporters camped outside the building, “Vultures, that’s what they are. What ever happened to privacy?”

  
“Well, they’re certainly going to make this a lot harder than expected.” Sam sighed, maneuvering his tall frame into the passenger seat of the impala while Dean took the driver’s side.

  
They had sprung for one of the less seedy motels in the small town, it was an easy choice considering there were only three and two of them had permanent police tape. Monsters? Sure. Criminals? The Winchesters didn’t need to waste their time on minor league thieves and drug addicts. After all, the Winchesters were themselves criminals. It was a necessary element of The Job and they didn’t like to be reminded.

  
The short drive back to their motel was quiet, Dean could tell Sam was thinking deeply. He curiously kept glancing back at his silent brother, wondering when he would give it up already. Finally the suspense was too much for him. “What’s going on, Sammy?”

  
“Hmm? Nothing’s going on. Just thinking.” Sam said shifting his eyes away from his brother’s gaze. He paused, looking hesitant before continuing, “Actually…there is something. But promise me you won’t mention this? It’s personal. I probably shouldn’t even be telling-”

  
“Yeah, yeah Sammy, I promise.” Dean dismissed Sam’s nervousness with a hand wave. What could be stressing him out like this? He was obviously reluctant to share the information and there wasn’t much they didn’t know about each other so it had to be big, Dean reasoned. Dean remembered the last time he had extracted information out of a nervous Sam, about how he had paid for sex on multiple occasions. Dean had to admit, he hadn’t thought his little brother had it in him.

  
“You know…if you caught something during your party days, I already know what brand will clear it up the fastest, so you don’t have to worry about it.” Dean teased, only half meaning it and laughed at the absolute terror that flashed across Sam’s face.

  
“No! No, it’s not about me. It’s uh, about Cas.” Sam deflected still looking thoroughly embarrassed.  
Dean’s laughter tapered off. “What’s he got to feel personal about? The guy’s basically a monk,” he said suddenly not as cool and collected as he was before.

  
“He’s got a crush.” Sam chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief, “Can you believe it?”

  
“I’ve seen weirder things.” Dean said flatly, staring off onto the road ahead.

  
\----------  
Dean could clearly remember being young, maybe ten or eleven, waiting excitedly for his dad to come home from a hunt. He knew it was late and that he had school in the morning but this seemed more important. He remembers his dad walking though that motel room door, already reeking of booze yet still reaching for another whiskey bottle. Young Dean nervously sat in a chair across from his dad, clasping his hands together so his dad wouldn’t notice how bad they were shaking. He wanted to tell him something, but fear was closing his throat.

  
“Well spit it out boy! You’re wasting my time.”

  
Dean tried to swallow but his mouth was suddenly completely dry. Right when his dad was going to abandon the table to take his drinking to bed, he spoke up “Dad don’t go! I…I have a crush.”

  
“A Crush?” John laughed too loud and for too long, “Did yah fuck ‘er yet?” John kept obnoxiously laughing, making the smell of alcohol even stronger in the tiny room.

  
“I-I-I…” Dean stammered. John was getting very close to waking up little Sammy and Dean knew Sam needed his rest, so he could be a lawyer one day. “Yes sir, I do have a crush. No sir, I haven’t…fucked them.” Dean said just a bit louder than a whisper.

“What do you want from me, son?” John poured himself another class of whiskey with his uninjured arm.

  
“Advice…,” Dean took deep breaths to ground himself, “Dad, the crush I have isn’t on a girl. His name’s-“  
The next thing Dean knew, the table had been knocked over taking with it empty glass cups and bottles that shattered on the linoleum. Then John pushed Dean against the wall, muttering obscenities. He had him by his thin shoulders and neck, Dean’s feet weren’t even close to touching the ground.

  
“You LISTEN to me, boy. No son of mine is gonna be one of those homos. Do I make myself clear?” John shook Deans hanging frame when he wanted to show emphasis. He let Dean slip to the ground as he turned to leave.

  
Dean breathed heavily trying to get back in rhythm. Lightheaded, he slowly laid down on his side. Between closing eyes, he saw his father’s boots crunch over the broken glass and back out the door. He decided to be whatever his dad needs him to be. That night as he lay curled on the floor of the small kitchen surrounded by chaos, he promised himself that he would control his feelings. Lock them away. He never wanted to feel weak ever again.  
\-------------

  
Sam wasn’t dumb. He could see the tension in Dean’s face and how his knuckles were turning white from how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. Dean was lost in thought. Sam politely trailed off of whatever he had been saying, knowing that Dean wasn’t listening.

  
After a few more minutes of them both thoughtfully looking out the windows, Dean pulled up to the motel that they would be staying at until the witch was permanently dealt with. Sam tossed Dean his room key as they both got out of the car. Sam wiggled his keys and let him know that he would be two doors down.

  
Before Dean could protest, Sam threw his hands up and said “He insisted, Dean. Was I supposed to say no?”

  
Dean grumbled while swinging his bag onto his shoulder so he could unlock the door. He was surprised to see that the door wasn’t even locked, so he cautiously pushed in. Cas was sitting on one of the two beds, eyes fixed on what looked like a Spanish novella show.

  
“I could have been a burglar, you know. Or one of your very angry brothers and sisters ready to strike revenge. I could have been-“ Dean’s monologue was shushed midsentence by Cas.

  
“Maria just broke her marriage to Rafael off so she can pursue relationships with Rafael’s brothers, Martin and Diego.” Cas relayed in awe.

  
“Oh no why would she do that?” Dean said, playing along because the smile on Cas’ face was infectious.

  
“I only saw the end of that episode but it seems that she caught her betrothed in bed with another man. I don’t think I can trust Rafael again if he finds it so easy to cheat on his beloved. What do you think, Dean?”

  
“I think that….we need to talk, Cas.” Dean set his bag next to the bed Cas hadn’t claimed. He took off his jacket and loosened his tie. Then he sat on the inside of the bed facing the other one.

  
“Of course, Dean.” Cas said, turning his new favorite show off and scooting across the bed until he was in a similar position as Dean.

  
They both sat in silence. Dean was squeezing his hands and that made Castiel nervous.

  
“How’s your back?”

  
“Much better. Thank you, Dean! Would you like to see the healing progress?” Cas smiled and started pulling his shirt up but Dean gestured for him to stop.

  
“Maybe later. Do you, um, remember when I was bandaging you and then our lips sorta accidentally touched? It happened so fast, I don’t expect you to remember.” Dean was honest to god blushing. Castiel didn’t understand.

  
“Yes I remember. You kissed me.” Cas said, furrowing his brows. “You kissed me and then you left to make a sandwich.”

  
Dean widened his eyes and sputtered a few times, “I didn’t kiss you!”

  
“I clearly remember what humans call a ‘kiss’ happening to me. Between us.” Cas knew he was right, he had spent all day watching novellas and it had taught him a lot.

  
Dean thought for a moment. “That wasn’t a real kiss, man! Real kisses are much different. Like totally different. What we did? That was a mouth touch between friends, alright?”

  
Dean got up and paced the room while Cas silently watched.

  
“It’s just this crush thing alight? I know it’s on me and I just- I just can’t be that for you. I have nothing to offer you. I just can’t.” Dean leaned against the dresser and sadly looked at Cas.

  
Cas stood and slowly walked over to Dean without breaking eye contact. He got right in front of Dean and gingerly placed his hands on both sides of his face, ignoring when that makes Dean flinch. “Your father can not control you anymore, Dean. Only if you let him.”

  
Cas was right. He had let a ghost run his life for far too long. Even still the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he swore he could almost feel his dad’s grip around his throat. He looked Cas’ bed head and mismatched socks in front of him and knew that he had a friend in him. A home even.

  
Dean closed the distance between them and showed Cas what a real kiss was like. Cas was shocked at first but quickly relaxed and gently put his hands around Dean’s waist while Dean went for his hair. The kiss was soft and slow, not a peck as the one before. It had so many pent up feelings spilling into it. It didn’t last long and when they broke apart, they were both breathing heavily.

  
“Cas, I - “ Dean started but Cas finished, “I know what you’re going to say. It’s okay. Thank you for the…friend kiss.” Cas stiffly walked to his bed, got under the covers and turned out his night lamp.

  
Dean was left standing there more confused than ever. What did he do? He had made the situation he was attempting to control, a million times worse. It was those damn lips! So beautiful and always slightly parted….and his eyes. Were they always so freakin’ blue? He knew deep down that this wasn’t just about castiel’s appearance. He was terrified to even entertain the possibility that they had a much deeper connection than he had thought.

/Am I getting a crush on Cas?/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What would you like to see happen?


	5. Chapter 5

Dean tossed on his mattress all night. He didn’t know what to think. He had so many feelings that he thought he had long since buried rearing their ugly heads. He didn’t know what to feel and that scared him.

But Dean was an adult, and he could recognize that the feeling he gets when he looks at Cas is not the same feeling that ‘just friends’ get. It was weird and it was different and it made him want to down a whole bottle of vodka. Then he’d at least have an excuse to kiss Cas again.

He knew that he couldn’t pursue this, but his resolve was weak. It was already bad enough that after four years of stares that went on too long and half confessions, his wall was finally starting to crack. He feared that this tiny sliver of a crack wouldn’t hold back the ocean for long.

Dean looked over at the bed next to his. There Cas was sleeping peacefully, with all the worry wiped away from his face. He looked younger, powerful like he had on the first night Dean encountered him. How strange it was that one angel could so drastically change the course of the Winchester brothers’ lives. 

Still gazing at him, Dean’s own face softened. He enjoyed studying Cas. He allowed himself to openly stare only occasionally so it was nice now to not have to worry about being caught. 

Dean Winchester knew who he was. Well, up until this point he had thought he knew who he was. He was a Hunter. He lived for The Job. He had thought he had love figured out. For some, it could mean a puppy, minivan full of kids, and a suburban house with a little white fence. For the Winchesters, love had always been more than that. Sacrifice, trust, the willingness to go to Hell and back for the other. Dean would give up his life and happiness if that meant saving Sam’s. That is what love is, damn it. But now he has Cas in the equation. Dean found himself questioning everything he had built himself on.

Sam is a fact; an unmovable part of his life who has been there from day one to have his back. Sam had done nothing but reinforce the ideals and illusions their father had quite literally beat into Dean.  
But Cas? Castiel came in, a little wayward angel, and wrecked Dean’s very foundation. 

He challenged Dean. He argued with him. He used to not be afraid to knock some sense into him either. Then there was the enormous blind faith that Cas puts into Dean even though it seems like he lets Cas down at every turn. Getting himself killed, tortured multiple times for Dean without ever asking for anything in return. Rebelling against Heaven, his home, for fucks sake!

It was everything Dean had been taught love was and everything he was told wasn’t.

The sun had risen enough that the delicate light spilled into the room, enhancing and bringing out the pastel yellow tones in the motel’s wallpaper. Cas unconsciously rolled onto his stomach away from the incoming light, burying his face into his pillow. Dean smiled and decided it wasn’t too early to get up.

He was careful not to wake Cas but after emerging from his shower, it was clear he was in a deep sleep anyways. Dean stepped out into the crisp morning air and breathed deeply. He would take this one step at a time, he decided.

He walked two doors down to Sam’s room but paused before knocking. He spied a gas station convenience store across the street and turned to go in that direction instead. It was small, and a little run down but it had what he came for. Tea bags and a hot water machine.

He had a hard time choosing from an array of teas, because to him it was all just little bags of leaves, but finally decided on mandarin orange ginger tea for Cas and green tea with lemon for Sam. Proud of his choices, he made himself his usual black coffee with two sugars, paid for it all and then walked back across the street to the motel. He wasn’t surprised to see Sam already awake and researching when he entered the unlocked room. 

“Good morning, Sam-o! How’s work going?” Dean asked while handing Sam his tea and setting the other two drinks on the table as he sat across from his brother.

“Get this,” Sam replied finally looking away from his computer screen, “that sheriff who wouldn’t talk to us yesterday? He’s dead.”

“Dead? Did he choke on a doughnut or something?” 

“No, worse. It’s likely that Sheriff Huckle is victim number five.” Sam said stoically. “I heard about it on the police scanner late last night. He was found exactly like the other four, signs of poison with deep self-inflicted gouges on his chest.”

Dean took a long drink of his coffee. “Case just keeps getting weirder and weirder…” he sighed.

Sam closed his laptop. “I don’t think it’s weird, Dean. I mean he was caught canoodling with the widows, right? And if-“

“-If there’s a Mrs. Sheriff Huckle, then he fits our pattern. I see your point Sammy.” Dean finished his sentence. “But still, now that one of their own is gone, the police are gonna be closing ranks. We won’t get much out of them now.”

“We still have to get statements from the widows and the mistresses if anyone can identify them.” Sam pointed out.

“Since I have a better track record with sad ladies, I’ll cover the widows,” Dean said smugly while Sam rolled his eyes, “I’ll text you the mistress names and you and Cas can do them.”

Sam stood and started packing his gear in silent agreement. “We’ll all go to the first widow together, then we’ll split up.”

Dean agreed. He continued sitting, drinking his coffee while Sam went to take a shower and get ready. He was reading through Sam’s diligent notes when a light knock sounded on the door. Dean rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms against his jeans and went to the door.

“You can do this. Just be normal. Cool. Smooth.” He mumbled under his breath. Placing a casual smile on his face, he opened the door to a wet haired Castiel. He didn’t realize he was staring until Cas awkwardly shifted his weight from foot to foot. Clearing his throat, Dean stepped away from blocking the entrance and waved him in. 

“I got up early and got you some tea from the place ‘cross the street. Orange ginger something. I, uh, hope you like it.” Dean handed the cup to Cas who cautiously took a sip. Studying his reaction, Dean continued, “I can go back and get you something else if you don’t like it. There was like fifty different types of the crap. Green tea, white tea, black tea, herbal tea, infused tea…” Dean babbled nervously.

Cas couldn’t help but laugh at Dean’s odd anxiety over the tea flavor. “It’s good, Dean. I like it.”

Dean beamed. “Good. I’m glad.”

Cas took another drink and furrowed his brows. “There’s another flavor…It tastes different. It has a different consistency than the rest of the ingredients.”

“Oh, that’s honey. I didn’t know how much sugar you like so I just went with honey.”

“It’s…sweet. Thank you.” Cas had just a hint of a smile on his lips which Dean returned with added intensity in his eyes.

Sam, who had exited the steamy bathroom a few moments before only to emerge into this somewhat steamy exchange, took the time to take in what he was seeing before announcing his presence. Dean looked…well Sam hadn’t seen him look at someone like that in a long time. It wasn’t the usual stare between them, this was way different. Sam could feel the shift in the air. Sure, he had given some thought to Dean and Castiel’s weird bond but it suddenly dawned on him just how blind he’d been.

Before he could dive deeper, Castiel spotted him over Dean’s shoulder. Dean noticed his eyes shift and spun around. The three of them stood there silently for a moment.

Sam pretended like he hadn’t seen anything. “We almost ready to go?”

The room came alive again. Cas grabbed the bags of supplies and the keys to store them in the car. Once the door closed behind him, Sam grabbed Dean’s shoulder and stopped him from following.

“It’s okay, Dean.”

“What’s okay?” Dean replied, confused.

“It’s just….okay,”

“You’re a weird guy, Sammy.” Dean chuckled nervously, trying to read into his brother’s words.

The three of them piled into the impala, Sam in the passenger seat, Dean in the driver’s, and Cas in the back. He still had his tea clutched in his hands and the small smile on his lips every time Dean looked at him in the rear view mirror.


	6. Chapter 6

Castiel didn't think he would ever get used to the interview part of cases. He watched in the background as Dean and Sam ceased to be Winchesters, switching over to their FBI personas with ease. Dean introduced himself as Agent Smith and Sam as Agent Lee while they both flashed their fake badges in a smooth, practiced motion.   
  
It was only when the woman, Tracie Erickson, looked past both of them and eyed Castiel suspiciously that Dean realized him and Sam hadn't come up with a Cas game plan. They had been so busy creating an itinerary in the car for the day that it slipped their minds.   
  
There Cas stood on her front porch in his ill-fitting suit (one of Dean's old ones) looking like a nervous wreck now that everyone's attention was directed at him.   
  
"Don't worry about him. He's....he's..." Dean sucked in a breath trying to stall since his mind was drawing a blank.   
  
"Our intern. He's our intern. Just showing him the ropes, ma'am." Sam smiled politely but once Tracie turned to let them in, he gave Dean a pointed look saying _dude I just saved your ass._

They followed her in to a grand living room. Dean became interested in the very large mounted plasma television. Sam was immediately enamored with all the priceless paintings hung on the walls. Castiel noticed there was nothing that signified her husband’s ‘presence’.

There were no photos of him anywhere. There was no indication that he had lived there at all. Castiel thought it odd, but decided to let the boys take the lead on this one and he’d make a metal note to ask them about it later.

Tracie cleared her throat, a sign that they should start paying attention to her. Sam apologized on all of their behalf’s, “We were just so distracted by your lovely home, Mrs. Erickson!”

“Yeah. Well, my late husband didn’t spend fifteen hundred a pop on those snake leather stools so they could be stared at. Please, sit. Can I offer you something to drink?” She said gesturing us to the kitchen island where the stools where.

They obliged, sitting in her expensive uncomfortable chairs. Tracie held up a bottle of wine in question. Dean enthusiastically nodded his head yes while Sam politely denied. She stabbed her long stiletto nails in Cas’ direction. “What about him?”

“Our intern doesn’t drink.” Sam said smoothly.

“Doesn’t drink? Bah! What is he? A monk?” Tracie laughed loudly while she grabbed two glasses. She filled hers to the brim and did the same to the one she slid over to Dean.

“I’m an angel of the lord.” Cas angrily muttered under his breath, huffing when Dean elbowed him in the ribs and winked at him.

Sam took the opportunity to start the interview. “So obviously we are here about your husband’s recent passing. I know this could be painful but could you tell us what happened?”

She took a long drink of wine and slowly lowered it back to the counter. “It’s not painful. Sonny was a cheating bastard. It took a while for me to fall out of love with him but when I did, I never looked back.”

“Do you know any of his mistresses? Had any of them made threats to you or Sonny?” Sam asked.

“Not personally, no. But I’d see some names that he had written checks to. Texxas Baby, Precious, Brandi, names of that sort.” Traci said the names like she had a bad flavor in her mouth, and poured herself another glass of wine.

Dean chimed in, “So your husband had a thing for strippers, huh?” He nudged his glass towards her and she dutifully filled it for him.

“No, Agent Smith. His dick had a thing for strippers. My husband’s ego had a thing for young girls in desperate situations.”

Dean almost choked at her words but Sam remained serious. “How much did he spend?”

“Close to three hundred thousand. Most of it went to his main tramp, Crystal,” Tracie took a sip and then scoffed, “She wasn’t even happy with what she got. She used to send me nasty hate letters, you know? As if I wasn’t the one with the fifteen karat ring on my finger. Bah!”

As she topped off her glass, Sam leaned in interested. “Do you still have any of those letters?”

“No, I burned them when I burned Sonny’s prized model train.” She smiled as if reminiscing a happy memory. “Oh! But I did get two packages from her. Sonny opened his but mine is in the hall linin closet.” She teetered off in her six inch heels to retrieve it.

Sam noticed Dean reaching for the wine bottle and smacked his hand away. “Seriously, Dean? We’re on the job. Have some self control!”

“Oh come on, Sammy…you know I’m a wine mom at heart! I want to drink wine while I spend my husband’s money like fancy ladies.” He said with an attempt at an accent. He was all smiles and Sam couldn’t help but laugh.

“Cas, get him out of here.” Sam said lightheartedly, heading off to find Mrs. Erickson and finish the interview solo.

Castiel tried to get Dean to move at first but with Sam gone, Dean found no resistance when he poured and downed his third glass of wine.

And then his fourth.

Finally, Castiel was able to convince a very visibly tipsy Dean into leaning on his shoulder. He had refused to sit on the “alligator stools” and Cas didn’t think the owner would appreciate him sitting on the clean marble floor.

“Time to go.” Dean mumbled.

“Yes, time to go.” Cas answered.

Dean thought it was absolutely hilarious to walk a few steps with Castiel and then go dead weight. Finally annoyed, Cas spat “Why are you doing this? Please just walk to the car!”

Dean giggled. _Giggled._ “Just wanna see if you’re gonna catch me.”

Castiel’s face softened. “I’ll always catch you, Dean.”

They continued the trek over uneven ground to the car but after a minute with no dead weight, he looked quizzically up at Dean. Cas thought he had heard him say “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Dean looked worried, sad even. Cas didn’t mention it, he didn’t have much knowledge on the effects of intoxication.

Cas unlocked the car and much to Dean’s disapproval, put him the backseat. As he was leaning over him to buckle his seatbelt, Cas suddenly felt his cheeks burning. Sure enough, Dean was staring right at him when he turned his head. Dean’s hands snaked around his waist and twisted him until he was straddling him. Now Cas’ whole face was a bright red and he couldn’t let out more than a squeak in surprise.

“You look cute when you don’t know what to say.” Dean basically purred.

His hooded green eyes called to him, Cas didn’t know what for but he was kind of afraid to find out. He wished he could pause this moment, go ask Sam about a million questions, and then come back ready to take on this purring Dean.

Dean watched the emotions flicker on Castiel’s face with interest. Each one prettier than the last. He liked the feeling of all Cas’ weight resting on him. His rough but soft skin under his shirt. Dean ran his hands slowly across Cas’ torso, starting at the top and ending up at the skin right above his slacks waistband. He curled a finger inside and Cas inhaled sharply.

“You’re inebriated.” Cas said shakily, pushing his hands off. “I do not want to assume…”

“Assume what your wide eye baby blues are doin’ to me?” Dean took one of Castiel’s hands and placed it on his bulge. “No need to assume, Angel, the proof is right here.”

Castiel gaped but didn’t remove his hand. The heat and the throbbing was itself intoxicating to him.

Dean smirked at him, and then looked down “Looks like you are no ken doll.”

Cas followed his eyes to the tightness in his own slacks. He couldn’t believe this was happening, to both of them, at the same time. It was very similar to the strange dreams he has been having since becoming human. Maybe this was a dream? A test?

Snapping himself out of it, he lurched off Dean’s lap to be sitting next to him in the backseat. He closed his eyes and began taking deep breaths. “Dean I – “ He started to say but stopped when he peaked out at Dean and saw his head lolled on his shoulder.

Panicked, Cas grabbed his face trying to lightly shake him awake. “Dean! Dean!”

A hand reached in the window and shoved Cas’ arms off Dean. “Don’t worry, He passed out. Happens when old guys drink like they’re still twenty five.” Sam said playfully while getting into the driver’s seat. “You gonna ride shot gun?” He asked, blindly tossing two packages into the back’s middle section.

“Um, I think I will spend this drive in the backseat. If that is okay.” Cas said quietly.

Sam looked back, taking in Cas’ furious blush, half buttoned shirt, and the way he was holding the packages in his lap. Sam raised his eyebrows but didn’t antagonize the clearly embarrassed Castiel any further. He pulled the car out of the luxurious winding driveway and smiled when baby’s treads hit the tire worn road she was used to. The old ways are always nice, he thought. But as he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Dean drunkenly whispering to a vibrant Castiel, and then them both falling into hysterics…He couldn’t help but think about how nothing changes unless it has to. _What is supposed to be, will be._ And Sam was pretty sure he had a front row seat to that change.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam had made the command decision to drop Dean back at the motel until he could sober up. He knew he wouldn’t like it but there was just no way Sam was going to put up with drunk Dean interviewing grieving widows.

Sam and Castiel helped Dean out of the car and to his room, letting him fall to the bed. He was in one of his happy drunk stages, cracking jokes and laughing like crazy before he even made it to the punchline. 

Retreating to the doorway, Sam motioned Castiel to follow and gestured he should be quiet about it since it seemed like Dean was falling asleep again. Cas had not taken more than two steps away when a sound of protest came from behind him.

“Where you goin’ man? Don’t you wanna keep an old friend company?” Dean slurred with a lazy smile. 

Castiel looked from Dean back to Sam in confusion. He mouthed ‘What am I supposed to do?’ to Sam and he just shrugged his answer. He felt something grab his hand and when he turned he saw that Dean had stretched off the bed so lightly grasp Castiel’s hand.

“Please stay.” He whispered. “Don’t leave me.” He mumbled sleepily.

Castiel stared at their joined hands in awe. The calming serenity the sensation brought was overwhelming. He took a few cautionary steps towards the bed and Dean scooted so he was no longer hanging off the edge.  
Dean liked this. Twisting his fingers through Castiel’s, looking up at his blushing face. The space between them seemed appropriate, considering the distance they had overcome. Just to meet in the middle.

Dean didn’t believe in luck. He had never been lucky in his 34 years of life. He had watched everything he cared about stripped away and killed, to the point where he actively expects it. He did believe in destiny. It took some time and some run ins with certain supernatural elements but now he believes he is on road to a predetermined destination.

Maybe it was how drunk he was, but he got a sense of clarity while staring at Cas. He loved him. He has loved him for years. He had shown it the only way he knew how, by standing up for Cas, protecting him, fighting for him. The same things he would do for Sammy. But he didn’t love him the way he loved Sam. 

Dean wanted to be close to him. He wanted to give him things, see him smile. He wanted to throw away his bruised barrier and just be fucking real with him for once.   
But he wasn’t drunk enough for that, for anything more than wishful thinking.

Briefly he wondered…if he would ever be ‘drunk enough’ for that?

Slowly, he let his hand slip out of Castiel’s, who had stood there silently through Dean’s entire internal realization.

He suddenly had the overwhelming urge to sleep, and even though he wasn’t on his insanely comfortable memory foam mattress, he gave no objections when his mind started to darken and slip away.  
\---

Dean awoke with a start. He could tell by the low light coming through his window that some hours had passed. His neck was sore from the position he had been laying in and he absentmindedly fluffed his bed ridden hair.  
“What do those rich people put in their wine, vodka?” Dean mused flatly, still tired. “It was stronger than I expected.”

“It certainly did have…an effect on you.” Cas breathed, nervously clasping his hands together in front of him from the chair he sat on near the bed.

Dean turned in surprise at the voice. “Cas? You didn’t have to stay here while I slept.”

“You asked me to stay.” Cas shrugged, “I’ve grown accustomed to watching over you as you sleep.”

“Well…thanks, I guess.” Dean looked around, unsure of where to go from here. “Uh, where’s Sammy?”

Cas proceeded to unfold a paper in his lap, it had Sam’s familiar scrawl on it. “He went on to victim number two’s wife, Quinn Hunt, and victim number three’s, Anita Morandi. He says to clean yourself up because you get victim number four’s, Julian Howell.”

“What about you?” Dean asked ignoring his duties.

“Sam says tomorrow I will assist him with two of the mistresses he managed to locate, the mistresses of victim number three and one.”

Dean sat up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. “What? Why do you guys get the fun one?” He joked, stretching his knotted up shoulders and neck.

Cas answered seriously, “It says here ‘Dean you do not get the privilege of interviewing strippers until you earn it.’ I guess Sam wasn’t too pleased with your relaxation tactics,” Cas smiled slightly, setting the paper aside on the night table. 

Dean smiled back. Okay, he deserved that. But Sammy can’t ban him from future stripper interviews, he would go along with this one just to prove that he was a good sport.  
He stood on shaky legs to get his bearing, “Have you eaten?”

Cas shook his head. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

“Well come on! I don’t want Sam accusing me of starving you!” Dean touched his shoulder, and began walking to their supply bag, smiling to himself when he heard Castiel getting up.

He realized that they didn’t really have any food left in the bag or the room so he turned to Cas, “We could make do here but how do you feel about going out to eat?” He asked, leaning his hip against the bathroom door frame.

“If you’re asking whether I would like to eat more stale saltine crackers or get a nice, hot meal at a fine establishment, then the answer is I feel great about going out to eat.” 

Dean threw his head back laughing. Cas had a way of saying the funniest things while being completely serious, that was probably why Dean found it so funny at all.

Dean called a taxi service and they both waited outside for it to arrive. It was late evening now so Sam would be getting back sometime soon. Dean supposed that meant victim four would have to wait until tomorrow. When the taxi pulled up, out of habit, Dean opened the door for Castiel. He wasn’t as appalled at his action as he thought he would be and he didn’t laugh it off like he usually would.   
For once, he just rolled with it.

He told the driver to take them to whatever place wouldn’t make them sick if they ate the food. The cabbie laughed but complied as if this was a common direction.

In the dimly lit back seat, Dean kept finding his eyes drawn to Castiel, who was eagerly taking in the surroundings as they flew past. He looked good. It was cute the way normal things excited him.

Dean cleared his throat as the cabbie pulled into the parking lot of a place called “Morandi’s”. It looked nice, though the name was somewhat familiar, and had a good amount of cars out front. Deeming it satisfactory, Dean paid the cab driver and tipped him twenty dollars since he was in a good mood.

They walked into the restaurant, close enough that people might wonder but far away enough that suspicions couldn’t be confirmed. They were greeted by a pretty, young hostess who looked like she had worked two shifts and desperately needed a break, but nonetheless kept a smile on her face. 

Dean had always admired that kind of work ethic. Food servers and retail workers weren’t so much different than hunters. They didn’t fight monsters in the literal sense but they do get their fair share of beasts. And also like hunters, too often it is a thankless job.

She sat them in a booth towards the back of the crowded restaurant. The padded seats were a deep red color and the table was a dark stained wood. There was a basket with freshly made rolls on top of a cream colored cloth that had intricate gold trim. The window to the right of them had curtains like the basket cloth but it was thicker material and in addition to the trim it had golden flecks throughout that sparkled in the low light.

“Nice digs.” Dean said taking in the surroundings.

Castiel stared at Dean, silent. Nervously Dean reached for a roll and got busy since he hadn’t eaten all day.   
“Aren’t you gonna have some?” He asked, mouth full of bread, “It’s really goooooodd….” Dean wagged a bread roll at Cas.

“No, thank you. I will wait to order.” Cas said, looking unfavorably at the rolls of bread. 

Dean shrugged. As if on cue, their server arrived with two menus and her notepad. 

“Hey, y’all! Welcome to Morandi’s! My name’s Lacy and I’ll be your server tonight! The special tonight is roast beef and what can I get y’all to drink?” She said with so much enthusiasm, Dean wondered if she had been a cheerleader. 

Lacy was tall even without the heels she had on. She wasn’t young but she wasn’t terribly old either. Her nose was bent slightly in a charming way and her jaw was a little too wide. She was pretty, beautiful even. 

While Dean had been analyzing their server, Cas had already ordered iced tea with lemon. He realized that they were both looking at him, so he ordered the first thing that came to mind, a cherry coke. Lacy told him they didn’t serve soft drinks and offered to get him a cherry swirl spritzer instead. Dean grumbled but she assured him it was good and she left them the menus with a smile while she went to get their drinks.

Cas studied his menu without looking up. “You find her attractive?”

“I mean...I guess? She definitely wasn’t bad to look at.” Dean replied, confused.

There was a moment of silence as they both continued to look over the menu. “I think I’ll get the steak, haven’t had a quality one inna while, what about you, Cas?”

“Would you kiss her? Since you find her attractive.” Cas spoke as if he was asking how the weather would be tomorrow. 

Dean was taken aback by his abruptness. “I guess if I had the chance, I would…what is the point of-“

“Do you find me attractive, Dean? You’ve kissed me now, on multiple occasions, but you never mention it. Is it that you’re not attracted to me in this body?” Cas set down his menu and gestured to himself. 

“Uh, I don’t, I’m, I haven’t, I mean…” Dean sputtered. 

Lacy showed up drinks in hand and thankfully interrupted because Dean had no idea what to say. Dean relayed his order, still flushed, and Cas calmly ordered the vegetable soup. Lacy collected their menus and was gone too soon for Dean’s liking.

Dean took a long drink of his spritzer, it was very good, and prepared himself for an incredibly uncomfortable meal.

“Cas, buddy, it’s not the same. It’s uh…well those were more of ‘appreciation’ kisses. It was just something that happened, my bad, alright?” Dean tried to laugh it off but Cas was completely still, his face unreadable.

“You’re nice, and I like being around you but that’s all it is.” Dean knew he was lying through his teeth. He felt an ache in his chest at his words, wanting desperately to just say what he wanted to say. But it’s hard to brush off the deep rooted fears he’s had ingrained in him since childhood.

Castiel’s face fell, finally showing the anguish he must have been feeling. Dean wanted to reach out to him, comfort him. But how could he comfort Cas when he was the problem?

Dean’s cellphone started buzzing. Looking away from Cas, he saw that it was Sam. He quietly whispered an excuse me to Cas and walked a few feet off towards the rear of the restaurant to take the call. 

“Sam, not a good time, what’s up?”

*Where are you guys? I’ve made a break in the case.*

“We got hungry so we went to a place called Morelli’s or Mordini’s or something. It’s a pretty nice place, we should-“

*Wait! Morandi’s? You’re at Morandi’s?*

“Dude what’s your problem? If you wanted to come you should have mentioned it earlier!”

*Dean! Victim number three! Charlie Morandi! That’s his restaurant!*

“Oh wow. That’s a weird coincide-“

*PLEASE tell me you haven’t talked to anyone named Lacy! Dean!*

“Our server was named….Lacy…” Dean dropped the phone.

He had wandered back to their table. Castiel was gone. Most of the lights were turned off and the place was empty. There had just been a restaurant of people…Dean reached for the gun in his waistband but before he could grab it, he was struck hard on the back of the head. He was knocked unconscious.

*Dean? Dean! Dean I’m coming, hold on!*


End file.
